


The Pizza is Less Cheesy Than This

by NyxErchomai



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, M/M, derek is the hot pizza man, i can't believe that's a tag, stiles is bad at flirting, stiles wants a slice of derek's pepperoni if you get my drift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxErchomai/pseuds/NyxErchomai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Hale's Pizza sends Derek Hale to deliver Stiles' pizza, Stiles converts to a pizza-only diet in an attempt to see more of the broody-but-gorgeous pizza delivery boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pizza is Less Cheesy Than This

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by dnimruoyesol on tumblr

Somewhere between  _A New Hope_  and  _The Empire Strikes Back_  Scott starts to complain of a gnawing hole in his stomach.

“Dude, I needed food like 10 minutes ago,” he complains as Stiles tells him – again – that he’ll make something when the movie finishes. “How long is left? Is it nearly done?  _Stiles_ , I’m hungry!”

 

When the end credits finally begin to roll, Stiles shoots off the couch like it’s burning him. A quick glance into the fridge confirms his suspicion that it is  _not_  grocery week. There’s a brochure stuck to the door, though; a mailbox advertisement for a pizza place Stiles has never heard of, Hale’s Pizza.

“Bro, how’s pizza?” he yells to the lounge.

“Just feed me!” Scott cries back, whining dramatically.

 

Wondering if they’re still open, Stiles grabs his phone and dials the number on the brochure. A gruff voice answers. “Hale’s Pizza, what can I get you?”

Stiles rattles off three generic pizzas and requests delivery. The gruff voice on the other end grunts in acquiescence, and the line goes dead. Stiles stares at his phone. “That’s customer service for you,” he mutters.

 

Scott spends the 20 minute wait moaning about how he could probably eat a deer at this point, but he shuts up as soon as Stiles reminds him that he  _literally_  could, if he was that desperate. When the doorbell finally rings, Stiles is yelling at Scott to stop being such a drama queen. He opens the door smiling at Scott’s snarky reply, and feels the grin freeze on his face when he sees the pizza delivery boy.

 

Holy. Shit. Stiles forgets social decorum in favour of staring blatantly at the gorgeous, bearded, angry-looking boy standing on his doorstep.

“You ordered pizza, yeah?” the boy suddenly says, startling Stiles out of his scrutiny.

“Oh, uh…yeah,” he stutters out, fumbling with his wallet. He grabs a few notes and holds them out. He’s trying to be blasé, but he definitely isn’t when the delivery boy’s fingers brush against his. It happens again as the pizza’s trade hands, and Stiles is pretty fucking sure he’s grinning like a maniac.

“You have a good night!” he chirps –  _chirps_ – as the boy turns away.

He turns back for an instant, dark eyes catching Stiles’.

“Yeah, you too.”

Stiles slams the door shut with his foot. “Come back and I will,” he murmurs with a smirk.

*~*~*

 

A week later Stiles invites Scott over to play xbox, and the second he hears Scott’s stomach rumble he leaps up.

“I’ll order pizza!” he declares, almost running to find his phone. He dials, orders the same pizza’s as before, and almost shakily tells them to deliver. He hangs up and goes back to the game, not paying a shred of attention to it at all.

 

He tries to answer the door without looking like a crazy person, but ends up grinning anyway when he sees the same delivery boy as before.

“Oh, hey!” he says, attempting to be casual.

The delivery boy quirks his eyebrow. “Hi?” It’s obvious he doesn’t recognise Stiles (it doesn’t hurt his feelings, nope, not even a little).

“You delivered pizza here last week,” Stiles replies, laughing airily.

The delivery boy stares at him for a second. “Oh, yeah, I remember you. Well, here’s your pizza.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, paying and taking the pizzas. He’s too put-out by the indifferent tone of the delivery boy to notice that their fingers brush again.

“See you,” the delivery boy says, as Stiles turns to go back inside. Surprised, Stiles turns, eyes wide.

“B-bye,” he stutters. “See you! Bye!” The door closes on the amused smirk of the delivery boy.

Stiles stares at the door for so long that Scott comes looking for him – well, the pizza.

*~*~*

 

There are two more mostly insignificant pizza deliveries, awkward and stilted, where Stiles fills the silence with idle chit chat that borders on flirtatious, and the delivery boy goes no further than a smirk to indicate that he’s even listening.

Stiles doesn’t care; those precious seconds spent staring at the boy’s perfect angled jaw, with its smattering of stubble, are completely worth it. Even when he nearly drops the pizzas. Or when he trips over the doorstep. Totally worth it.  

*~*~*

 

The next time Stiles orders pizza it’s for him and Lydia, so he’s ultra-careful to sound nonchalant when he calls Hale’s Pizza and when he answers the door.

“Hey,” he says breezily, acutely aware that Lydia – shrewd, all-seeing Lydia – is just a few metres away.

“Here’s your pizza,” the delivery boy says. “You must really love it.”

Stiles laughs quietly, taking the boxes. “Yeah, um, it’s pretty great. Soon you’ll know my address off by heart.”

“Probably. Though I deliver a lot of pizza, so maybe not.”

That stings a bit, but before he can say anything Stiles hears Lydia’s heels coming closer, and quickly hands some notes over. “Well, I gotta–”

“Stiles?” Lydia says and she steps into view. Stiles turns to answer her, and when he turns back the delivery boy is already halfway across the lawn.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped or something. What took so long?” Lydia asked, sparing nothing more than a glance at the retreating delivery boy.

“Just making small talk,” Stiles replies absently, staring after the boy.

*~*~*

 

The fourth time he orders pizza, it’s a girl who delivers it. She has the same dark hair and eyes as the delivery boy, so Stiles assumes she’s his sister.

He can’t help but ask after his delivery boy, hoping to sound indifferent as he asks if he’s alright.

The girl scrutinises him for a second. “Yeah, he’s fine,” she says finally. “Just delivering somewhere else.”

Stiles pays and farewells the girl, closing the door with a hollow feeling of disappointment in his chest.

*~*~*

 

The boy is back next time. “God, how are you not fat?” he asks brusquely, and Stiles laughs.

“Good metabolism,” he replies, shrugging.

“Well not even a good metabolism will help you if you keep eating pizza so often.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m paying your bills,” Stiles says defensively. “You should be nicer to me.”

The delivery boy takes his money. “Should be. But I won’t be,” he throws over his shoulder as he departs, smirking.

*~*~*

 

No matter what the delivery boy says, their interactions get better.

After Stiles gives him a larger tip than usual, the delivery boy spares a smile. “Did I do a particularly good job and handing you the pizza box this week, or are you just feeling generous?”

“Just feeling generous,” Stiles shrugs, but it’s actually the fifteenth time the boy has delivered pizza to Stiles and he’s feeling weirdly happy about that fact.

“Thanks,” the boy says.  

*~*~*

 

This goes on for weeks. Stiles inadvertently discovers that the boy’s name is Derek, after the gruff voice taking his order yells for  _Derek_  to get ready for delivery. He even sees Derek out of his uniform, buying groceries at the store. He wears leather jackets, a fact that Stiles frantically stores away like a squirrel hoarding nuts. He thinks briefly about approaching Derek in the store, but thinks it might be strange to strike up a conversation with his pizza delivery boy.

He regrets not taking the opportunity to open an acquaintance with Derek later, when his dad orders pizza of his own accord and answers the door. Stiles only realises that he’s missed a chance to talk to Derek when his dad calls him down to eat.

It’s then that the Sheriff takes matters into his own hands, telling Stiles that the pizza-fund is closing on account of how expensive pizza is.

“It’s not expensive!” Stiles exclaims, horrified. “It’s only, like, twenty bucks.”

The Sheriff is unimpressed. “Stiles, you order it twice a week, sometimes even more. It adds up. So, no more pizza.”

 

And suddenly Stiles’ fragile link to Derek is severed, cut down in its prime. It’s tragic, really. So tragic that Stiles takes to frequenting the grocery store, hoping for the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the broody pizza delivery boy. For a week, he has no luck. Unfortunately, a week is about as long as Stiles’ attention span can hold out before he starts looking for other avenues.

“Other avenues” means driving around town in his jeep looking for Hale’s Pizza, and storming inside when he finally finds it.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks the dark-haired girl behind the counter. She looks up, unfazed.

“He’s out back, having lunch. What do you want?”

“To speak to him,” Stiles says forcefully.

The girl – her name badge says Laura – shrugs. “You’ll have to wait then.”

 

So Stiles is relegated to one of the hard, uncomfortable waiting chairs, fidgeting and tapping, unable to contain or hide his impatience.

Finally, after a nightmarish ten minutes, Derek sidles back in. He doesn’t see Stiles until the skinny teen is sauntering up to the counter.

“Hi-” Derek begins, but Stiles has gone through this part of the conversation in his head so many times that he skips right to the good part.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” he asks abruptly, and Derek goes terribly silent. Stiles can see Laura staring at him with wide eyes in the back.

“What?” Derek finally asks dumbly.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Come on, the whole neighbourhood probably heard that. Do you want to have dinner with me?”

“I don’t even know you,” is the only reply he gets.

Stiles laughs. “You’ve been delivering my pizzas for, like, 3 months. I’m pretty sure you’d know by now whether I was the sort of person you’d go to dinner with. Besides, that’s what dates are for, right? To get to know each other?”

Derek seems dumbfounded. “I – I thought you were… dating that girl. The redhead.”

Stiles is momentarily confused. “Oh! You mean Lydia? No! No way, she’s just my friend.”

“Oh,” Derek says, and that seems to be all he needs. “As long as we aren’t eating pizza, I’ll have dinner with you.”

Stiles groans. “To be honest, I got sick of pizza after, like, two weeks.”

“So we won’t be eating pizza then?”

“I would be happy to never eat it again,” Stiles agreed. “As long as I keep getting to see you.”

Derek actually  _smiles_. “We can probably figure something out.” He turns to look at Laura. “Hey, is that pizza delivery boy position still open?”


End file.
